


drunken tiger

by geniewish



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lee Jooheon, Crack, Drinking, Honeypup, M/M, Nude Modeling, Porn With Plot, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Top Lee Minhyuk, an ode to heonies lips n hips, heonnie is tiger grr, it starts with plot but ends without it, its more like strangers to friends to lovers, minhyuk likes buns, yes it somehow fits into the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18101891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniewish/pseuds/geniewish
Summary: Jooheon, a drunken youth, and Minhyuk, definitely not a human.or Jooheon has a bad night, Minhyuk carries him home, they become friends, they turn into flatmates, they finish as lovers.





	drunken tiger

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a mindless smut i wrote instead of my hyungkyunhyuk longfic (which i recommend you check out nya) so this is kinda meh but also i like it
> 
> its supposed to be a little funny so hope you enjoy!!

Jooheon doesn’t usually get piss drunk. 

He likes his beer cold, he likes his vodka with juice, and he doesn’t take more than three shots at a time. 

Jooheon is a nice fella, he is the soul of the group, funny even in a sober state and is usually the one to carry his friends back home when they have too much fun. 

He has a strong stomach and he knows himself better than anyone. He eats oily food before going for drinks, he downs bottles and bottles of water, and doesn’t forget to eat afterwards, usually from food booths that are always set up after midnight in the buzzing nightlife areas. 

Jooheon is never the one to refuse an invitation to hang out. Be it just cracking a cold one with the lads at his friends’ dorm room with a TV and fried chicken, or sharing a jug (or two, or three) around the table in a bar, or getting lit on rounds of shots in a club and spending a delightful night until the sun rises up again. 

It’s not like he is a careless youth with no meaning in life, not at all. He just likes to have fun, likes to have his friends, likes music and other bonding activities good nights out can result in. 

See, Jooheon never gets pissed, and yet here he is, kicked out of the club and stumbling down the street in shameful solitude, because Changkyun is lost somewhere on the dancefloor, and Hyunwoo is taking care of his (usually) non-drinking boyfriend. 

So Jooheon is walking (or, rather, criss-crossing in whatever direction his legs carry him) to wherever he thinks home is. There is rooted knowledge at the back of his mind that not a single taxi will take him in the state he is in, which is why he follows the path of street lamps and stray groups of the same drunk guys that are too wasted to stay in the club. 

There is a road ahead of him. He doesn’t feel good. Cute white houses form a line along the street, some even with small front gardens. It’s a quiet inhabited area where typical families reside and students like him don’t usually step a foot in – they just have nothing to do here. Jooheon vaguely realises he probably went the wrong way. 

God spare him, he doesn’t have the strength for this. There is a bus stop just a few meters away, shielded by a glass wall. Jooheon barely trudges his way to the stop and slumps right on the ground, leaning against the glass wall like it’s how people normally wait for their buses. He doesn’t have the strength to get up, oh no, he doesn’t. 

For a while (he doesn’t know how long or how short), it’s peacefully quiet. Beautiful. He could write a song about it. He could lie down here for some time and wait for the mad dizziness to go past and then he could get up again and walk home. If he remembers where he needs to go, that is. 

His phone is in his pocket. But his phone is precious, he can’t get it out and accidentally drop it, and something is telling him that he might. Oh god, spare him. 

“You alright?” 

The tranquility speaks out. Jooheon frowns and squints, looking for ghosts to take him to the other side. He is too young to die, but he’s embarrassed enough about his level of drunk that he wouldn’t mind skipping on the rest of his life for now. 

Strangely, it wasn’t a ghost that spoke. There is a guy sitting on a porch in front of a house, just some miserable meters away from him. He can’t exactly see straight, the world starts spinning even with the slightest move of his head, but he can see the mysterious ghostly stranger in the distance, can see that he is quite young. 

“No-pey.” He slurs and smiles, closing his eyes. He is so, so drunk. 

“Fun night?” The guy speaks again. His voice is fairly cute, a little high, a little raspy. 

Jooheon hums in content and tries to nod. His head sweeps down, and he rests his chin on his chest. “So drunk.” He mumbles. 

The stranger huffs a little smile with acknowledgment of his words. “I can see that.”

Jooheon hums a giggle and opens his eyes. The guy is wearing long shorts and a t-shirt, and his hair looks like a mix of grey and brown, if Jooheon can judge in the light of street lanterns. 

“Are you a vampire?”

The guy smiles wider. “How did you know?”

Jooheon throws his head back and leans against the glass again. He barely resists a whine. “Please kill me. I can’t get up.”

For a moment, the world is faded to black. He passed out.

The stranger, whose name happened to be Minhyuk, sighs. He can’t let the poor guy fall asleep in the street. 

“Oi.” He says loudly, hoping Jooheon is not too far gone. Gladly, he jerks awake. 

“Oh, alive.” He slurs, looking around himself with hooded eyes. He needs to take off his contacts, his eyes are about to dry out like sand in the desert. If desert sand can get any drier. Can it? He hasn’t been to a beach in a while. 

“Where do you live?” The guy asks. Jooheon throws his hand in a random direction. Minhyuk huffs with another amused smile. “In the trash?”

There is a pile of rubbish bags by another lamppost. Jooheon giggles in his throat. “Where I belong.”

Minhyuk sighs, feeling more pitiful with each minute. “Come on, tiger.”

Jooheon frowns and pouts, lining his head with his neck, which makes his face look even rounder. Like a dumpling. A cute dumpling. “Who’s-s-s tiger?” He slurs and prolongs his consonants.

“Says so on your shirt.”

He looks down on himself and, indeed, there is a drawing of a tiger head on his sweatshirt. He laughs in his throat again, and an unconscious smile remains on his lips. His dimples look deep. “Why are you outside?”

“Got kicked out.” Minhyuk simply replies. 

Jooheon pouts. “Sad.” He crinkles his nose, expressing his deepest condolences. “Why?”

Minhyuk doesn’t mind having a chat with a cute drunk guy. “Gay.” Comes another simple reply. 

“My poor baby.” Jooheon whines, and his lips stretch into an even bigger pout, and it’s like tears gather in his eyes. He’s about to pass out again. 

The stranger boy can’t allow this. “If I bring you home, can you make me breakfast?”

“I can’t cook.” The more time Jooheon spends on the ground, the more he wants to sleep. 

“Neither can I.” Minhyuk needs to keep the drunk guy awake. “Guess we’ll starve then.”

Jooheon snores. Sighing, the other boy gets up and walks onto the street, leaving his house behind. He crouches next to the passed out Jooheon, studies his faces, his pink parted lips and nicely arched eyebrows. He is cute. And he reeks of tequila. 

“Hey.”

The guy on the ground hums unintelligibly, and his head twitches lightly to the side. He smacks his lips unconsciously, as if asking to munch on something, like a toddler. If only Jooheon was a toddler. 

Minhyuk sighs again and looks over the other’s plastered form. Finding what he searched for, he pulls Jooheon’s legs forward just enough to fish his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. It’s an iPhone X, and Minhyuk doesn’t resist a little victorious smile. He floats the screen in front of Jooheon’s sleeping face, blindly scrolls up and turns it back to himself. He clutches his free fist in success at having unlocked the poor guy’s phone. Technology is getting easier to fool these days, he briefly notices.

The first thing Minhyuk does is checks the settings. Lee Jooheon, the Apple ID proudly says. 

“Jooheon,” he mutters under his breath. “Jooheon.” He calls louder, and the drunk guy flinches, mumbling a ‘yeah’.

Minhyuk is a good guy. He opens Google Maps, finds a pin labeled ‘home’ (Jooheon is surprisingly precautious), and asks for directions. 

“Lovely.” He whispers initially and then takes a proper look at the line of blue dots zig-zagging along the streets. “Twenty minutes, are you fucking kidding me.”

Jooheon hums something again, and his head continuously sweeps down like a pecking chicken.

“Alright, let’s go, tiger.” Minhyuk slaps his knees and stands up. Takes Jooheon’s hands in his and tugs, shifting him into a sitting position. The drunk guy whines, but Minhyuk is stubborn, he pulls him up as much as he can, and after a minute of one-sided efforts, he manages to put Jooheon on his feet. 

Throwing one limp arm over his shoulder and holding the other boy around his waist, Minhyuk takes a step, another, and another, and another, and mentally howls for whoever sits above to spare him of such suffering.

But, despite being a Scorpio sun and a Scorpio moon, Minhyuk continues trudging through the streets with a passed out stranger on his back. 

Bless that Jooheon lives in his own apartment (it’s a super cool brown brick-walled studio apartment with lots of empty space and modern furniture, and Minhyuk is a little jealous) and doesn’t have a security desk on the ground floor of his complex building.

 

Jooheon, who usually doesn’t get piss drunk and barely experiences horrible hangovers, wakes up with a very insistent desire to just end it all. 

His stomach is in shambles, his head is a torture chamber, and his joints are slowly crumbling from the inside. He wants to puke, he wants water, he wants aspirin, and he also wants to take his contacts off, because he can’t see shit. 

Scratching the dry sticky residue off his eyelids, he quickly ponders how he got home. He is only wearing his tank top and he clearly remembers putting on his cool brutal sweatshirt with a tiger print on. 

And then, his eyes widen. 

Jooheon slowly sits up, finds himself in his apartment, in his living room, on his couch, under his blanket. All the curtains are swung open, letting the bright-bright sunlight in. Maybe it’s a good thing he is still wearing his contacts. Without them, he wouldn’t be able to spot a stranger sitting by his round dining table just a few meters away. 

“Oh.” Jooheon was piss drunk but he was also conscious about half the time and he clearly (vaguely) remembers a guy sitting on a porch and talking to him. Jooheon slumped on the dirty ground – fucking hell, he is so embarrassing. “You carried me home.”

The guy, hunched and looking at his phone, raises his head and smiles lightly. “Morning.” He nods. He is using Jooheon’s charger. 

He was talking to this guy when he was passed out by the bus stop, and then this guy carried him home. He vaguely imagines how, seeing his own phone on the table, and then slaps his cheeks and groans, falling back onto the couch. 

He is grateful, of course he is, but he is also embarrassed as fuck. He doesn’t even let his friends see him in such state (not that they ever had to, Jooheon is a responsible adult and doesn’t ever get wasted), and now there is a stranger in his apartment, probably waiting to get paid back or something. 

Jooheon slowly sits up again. “What’s your name?”

The stranger guy looks up from his phone. “Minhyuk.” Jooheon nods. His head starts spinning again, and his stomach twists, and he doesn’t feel so good. Minhyuk curves his eyebrows. “Need to throw up?”

Jooheon, as if in slo-mo, gives the other a long look, nodding slowly. “Yeah.” Then his cheeks inflate, he throws his blanket off himself and jolts on his feet, running out with a hand over his mouth. 

Minhyuk goes into the open kitchen and fills a glass of water. 

 

“You have no food.” Minhyuk announces when Jooheon comes back, his face splashed with water and glasses perched on his nose bridge. He doesn’t yet know what to reply to this, he is a little out of it. “I can go buy some groceries.” Minhyuk offers.

Jooheon hums unintelligently with his mouth open. He remembers the other guy saying he was kicked out. He also very vividly remembers his own embarrassment about his very embarrassing drunk adventures. “You don’t have to.” His mouth forms a little pout as his chest hurts from so much unexpected kindness.

Minhyuk simply shrugs. “I don’t mind, you’re not in the state anyways. And I also want food.”

Right, he should at least pay the other guy back with something, even if it’s just free food. No one ever denies free food. He nods and looks for his wallet. It’s on the table.

“I’ll give you money.” He takes out his credit card, and Minhyuk raises one eyebrow, gaze shifting from the card in Jooheon’s hands to his face. The latter blinks, belatedly realising what’s wrong. He finds some cash and puts it in Minhyuk’s open palm. “Thank you?”

The other guy releases a little laugh and smiles, and Jooheon briefly thinks that he is really pretty. He has cute teeth. And his hair is a little greasy. “It’s no big deal. Rest up.” He grabs the apartment keys from the table.

Jooheon downs a glass of water, takes his phone and plops back onto the couch, and he is so, so confused. But more than confused he is also hungover, so he is just grateful a cute guy is helping him get through the tough morning. 

 

On the pitiful amount of cash Minhyuk buys cereal, strawberry milk, yoghurt, onion crisps and also cheese strings, just because.

Jooheon is slowly slurping his breakfast, feeling sickness spreading with each spoonful. But he has to eat, so he eats, even though a good half of chocolate pillows are already drenched and grossly mushy. The last crunchy bit disappears behind his cheeks.

Minhyuk is sitting opposite him, engulfing his crisps and staring at his phone. Then he sighs and hides it away. “Feeling better?”

The other shakes his head no. “So hungover, dude.”

The grey-haired guy curls his eyebrows and pouts. He props his chin on his hands and just looks at Jooheon pathetically slurping his milk from the spoon. 

“Can I stay with you?” Minhyuk asks, and the other’s eyebrows fly up at the sudden request. 

“For the night?” His voice breaks a little.

“No, like, for a bit longer. I’m homeless now.”

Jooheon liked the formulation ‘got kicked out’ a little better. “Can I ask why?” He gives up on trying to collect bits and pieces of melted cereal and just drink his milk. 

“Gay.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” Jooheon huffs a little laugh, and his dimples appear just in time to make the whole situation a little lighter, “but it’s too cruel.”

Minhyuk shrugs. “Well, they just found out. To be honest, it’s not the main reason. I’m a freelance artist, I do get my own money, but they want me to find a ‘proper job’,” he mimics quotation marks with two fingers. He sighs. “Don’t know, man, I did a lot of things.”

Jooheon thinks the other guy talks too casually about his personal life. And he likes it. 

“Shit, that’s tough.”

“Yeah, I thought I was going to stay with my best friend Kihyun, but he has a boyfriend now, so,” he curves his upper lip and grimaces, lightly shaking his hands in a refusing gesture. 

Jooheon laughs. “I’d hate that.” He sympathises with this quite well, considering Hyunwoo and his publicly displayed affection for his publicly displayed boyfriend. 

“What about you? Who do you prefer?” Minhyuk asks like it’s a debate between vanilla and chocolate ice cream, and Jooheon digs this attitude like a blind hardworking mole. 

“I like everything, honestly.” He sips milk from the end of the bowl. “Like, legit.”

Minhyuk smiles. “Nice.”

They talk for the rest of the morning. Jooheon’s hangover gets a tad bit better, Minhyuk finishes his crisps and swallows a whole pack of cheese strings, and they bond inhumanly easily. Sad thing is, Minhyuk got kicked out without any belongings other than his phone and wallet, so he’s been wearing the same t-shirt for two days now, and his feet don’t feel that good either.

Jooheon offers his shower, and somewhere in the process of seeing Minhyuk with wet hair and stretched-out sweats he borrowed from him and talking about hip-hop over a cup of coffee, Jooheon also offers his home for the stranger he knows for less than a day. 

Minhyuk quickly goes over to Kihyun’s to pick up some of the stuff he left there since they shared his little flat a year or two ago. Most of toiletries are Hyungwon’s now, so he struggles to find his own deodorant among the masses, but bit by bit, he gathers some of the essentials his best friend always keeps for him just in case. 

He comes back with a big sports bag over his shoulder and claims the couch as his own. 

 

Time passes, but for Jooheon, it flies like a damn meteorite. 

He dyes his hair a solid orange, and Minhyuk sticks to his ashy grey, like the first time they met. He is a great support and inspiration to Jooheon’s creative musical outbursts, and he in turn involuntarily ends up being a muse for the artist of the house. 

Minhyuk is a working class student; he buys stuff to paint with, sets up a whole corner just for himself and his art easel, stinks the entire living room in oil and hangs a bunch of hip-hop style graffiti drawings all over Jooheon’s naked brown brick walls.

He buys all the extra clothing, sometimes (a little more frequently than sometimes) wears Jooheon’s own, resides in the master bedroom when the rightful owner leaves for classes or work, and just weaves himself into Jooheon’s life pattern like a cross stitch. He’s just there, and that’s good.

They make a schedule for who has the apartment when they both go out with the intention to spend the night – no, not getting pissed – in a pleasant company. Minhyuk somehow steals the bedroom more often than not, but other times comes back in the middle of the morning to a (normally) hungover and ruffled Jooheon, already alone. 

“Uh, fuck,” Jooheon mumbles, trudging out of his bedroom. His freshly re-dyed ginger hair is a mess, his tank is clearly picked up from the floor, and he is wearing nothing but boxers on his legs. 

Minhyuk is waiting for coffee machine to heat up. “Morning to you too.” He smiles with the corners of his mouth.

“Fucking hell, my ass hurts.” Jooheon complains and itches his back, finally stumbling to the kitchen counter on widely-spaced legs. 

“Look at that.” Minhyuk tugs his collar down to expose the side of his neck and collarbone, all covered in pink-red bruises. 

Jooheon grimaces and approaches the coffee machine, pressing the button. “Shit.” He says empathetically. The other guy sneaks behind him and slaps him on the butt, making Jooheon cry out and hit Minhyuk on the arm. “I told you, my fucking ass hurts!” He whines and takes the half-filled cup of coffee.

Minhyuk easily steals it out of his hold. “My coffee.” And quickly (but carefully) runs to the bedroom to a tirade of the other’s swearing.

Sometime during the time of their incidental cohabitation, Jooheon catches feelings. It doesn’t hit him like a freight train, or a heavy basketball, or an important deadline, it just kinda gently nudges him on the shoulder and nods in the direction of a hunched Minhyuk working in the corner of his living room. He is using Jooheon’s laptop to update his art website, watch YouTube videos and also write his papers, though the latter are barely paid any attention. 

Jooheon just casually looks at his pretty parted lips, round hollow cheekbones and sophisticatedly crossed legs and decides that Minhyuk is too good to be true. He briefly thinks that he might want to get him drunk and maybe even kiss him slightly. 

 

Unexpected ideas and images come crashing down on him when Minhyuk offers to draw him. Nude. Without clothes. Naked, simply speaking.

Jooheon gyms and works out, he looks good, he feels good, but the simple act of taking off clothes always gets him a little fired up, in that strange sense of the word. He agrees on the only condition that he has to get drunk for that first. 

Minhyuk is chill. “I want to draw you from the back, so you just have to stand with your bum looking in my direction and head half-turned towards me, nothing tough, you get me.”

Jooheon gets him, which is why he showers like crazy, shaves his legs, scrubs his entire body and even styles his hair, just for the sake of it. They drink beer (Jooheon only promised himself one can, otherwise toilet is his best friend) and a little mix of vodka with juice, and this gets the muse buzzed enough to suddenly start complaining about how hot his bathrobe is. 

Minhyuk sets up on the couch with a solid wooden board and a paper, pencils of different grades scattered next to him. Jooheon’s apartment is full of empty space, so he takes good ten steps away from where the other guy is sitting and stands in the middle of the room, back to the couch. His slightly bends his right leg, shifting all the weight on the left side.

“Good?” Minhyuk asks, leisurely sinking into the pillows, so unlike his usual drawing posture. Jooheon nods and unties the belt of his bathrobe, letting the sides go loose. 

And suddenly, the whole world tenses, transforms, slows down.

Jooheon’s heartbeat picks up, drums against his ribcage like a wild animal, making his lungs shrink and ask for air twice the usual amount of time. 

“The bathrobe can just pool in your feet, that’s fine.” Minhyuk’s casual, pretty little voice pierces through the mathematical rhythm of his pulse, and Jooheon swallows. He is tipsy, definitely tipsy enough to throw his inhibitions away, but is too conscious of the other guy’s observing stare. This is when it hits it, the insistent desire to kiss Minhyuk just a little, maybe let him kiss back, maybe even go slightly further. 

Jooheon slides the bathrobe off his shoulders and drops it on the ground with a deaf thud. He unconsciously flexes, tenses his buttocks and his back, but gets over himself and turns his face to the side, just how Minhyuk asked him. 

“You don’t have to look at me yet, you can keep your eyes down for now.” The other guy says and starts sketching immediately, his gaze constantly flickering between the paper and Jooheon. 

The latter stands still, alcohol giving him enough thought food to entertain him without his gadgets or anything else to do. If he is truthful, his butt feels the most exposed. He is keeping his left hand in the area of his crotch as his other arm is hanging loosely by his side. He works for his hips, he knows they look beyond great in pants, but it’s Minhyuk, and Minhyuk’s making him nervous. 

He makes his face serious, concentrated. He doesn’t know what kind of vibe the other guy is going for, but based on the silence, he is doing great.

“Put some music on.” Jooheon suggests in sync with his thoughts. Minhyuk takes out his phone and scrolls through his library. He connects to the set of bluetooth speakers, and soon a soft jazz tune fills the room, relaxing Jooheon, relaxing them both. 

He resists the urge to start swaying to the melody. It’s hard. Whenever Jooheon gets even a little sip of booze, he needs to dance, needs to concentrate all his energy in something else. He can’t control his body as soon as beats slip past his ears, he can’t stay still. Which is why he closes his eyes and gently rocks his head from side to side, without disturbing the pose.

Jazz turns into house music, light beats sticking to his body and making him want to drink more, walk around the room with no clothes and feel Minhyuk’s gaze on him. He wants hands on him and around him, wants lips and teeth on his neck, wants anything else the other guy can offer all to himself. Jooheon isn’t too embarrassed to admit he just wants Minhyuk, and there is nothing he can do. 

He is careless, tipsy, naked and also a little horny, and he breathes out as his hand feels the growing swelling in his organ, and funny tingles run from the very pit of his being and to his heart, speeding it up. 

“Look at me.” Minhyuk calls, and Jooheon opens his eyes, narrow, sharp, black and glinting. He focuses on the other’s concentrated face, on his piercing eyes and clenched jaw, and feels hot. When the artist looks down on his paper again, Jooheon’s gaze slides down his body to his loose grey sweats, stretching over his spread legs, and does his breath hitch when he sees a small but so impossibly visible tent right under the drawing board. 

Jooheon shifts his left hand further down his crotch, feeling tingles growing stronger the more the image sinks with him. Minhyuk is growing hard too, and maybe they can do what Jooheon has been wanting to do all this time. He knows his accidental flatmate isn’t all that platonic towards him, after all. 

One corner of the other guy’s mouth twitches upwards, and his face turns a little scheming, a little teasing. “What you looking at?”

Jooheon gets into his image. He is a Greek god here, he is a sculpture, he is a masterpiece, and so he raises his eyes again, meeting Minhyuk’s. His hands lightly touch his swelling cock, fingertips travelling from the tip to the base, before curling around it, making his tensed and attention-deprived nerves happy. 

Seeing the other’s gaze growing darker than it has ever been, Jooheon loses any chances of going back now. He starts moving his hand slowly, just helping himself get hard. His left twitching shoulder perfectly indicates exactly what he is doing, and Minhyuk breathes through his nose a little louder, the corner of his mouth stretching further. 

“Oh, Jooheon.” He exhales, and his voice grows unexpectedly lower, losing its usual raspiness. His hand keeps desperately moving over the board, sketching and sketching, and Jooheon wants nothing more but to have that hand where his own is at the moment. 

The tent in Minhyuk’s pants keeps growing bigger, higher. He focuses on it and he knows that it won’t be embarrassing if he starts dirty talking out of nowhere. “Have a lot left?” But not now. He is still posing.

Minhyuk sighs. “Quite a bit, yeah.” He breathes out the last part, and the whisper as if stays in the air like a ghost, dissolving into music.

Jooheon doesn’t like waiting. Jooheon likes attention. Jooheon is a little bit tipsy and very horny and he also wants his flatmate by luck. 

“Minhyuk.” He says quietly and closes his eyes right when he gets a bit too sensitive, fingers circling the tip. The other guy’s exhale is louder than normal, and he shifts on the couch, spreading his legs further. He doesn’t reply. 

“Want you.” Jooheon mutters into thick air, words like fog, dissipating. 

The gaze of Minhyuk’s eyes is the darkest he’s ever seen. Glinting, sharp, focused. And he doesn’t reply, only bites on his lower lip from the inside. Jooheon has no business continue standing in the middle of the living room fully naked with a boner in hand. So he turns around, making the other guy’s eyes flicker up and flash like a lightning. 

Jooheon takes a step forward, left hand still hiding his length, his gaze narrow, hooded. He knows some people like it when he does that – when he is slightly intimidating, untamed, but does Minhyuk know it’s not true. 

The guy on the couch watches, eyes focused on the area of his legs and sliding up his torso when Jooheon approaches, standing right of front of him. He bends down slightly, hands letting go of his hard-on and reaching for the drawing board, taking it away. He is quite slow in his movements, as if fully controlled. He keeps the eye contact with Minhyuk going. Without looking at the sketch, Jooheon puts the board on the coffee table next to the couch and bravely, like the tiger he is, puts his knees on either sides of Minhyuk’s thighs and saddles his lap, hands on his shoulders. 

Minhyuk’s glances down to his standing cock, lip bite no longer as inconspicuous. Jooheon is putting the other guy in the face of the fact that there is a naked man on his lap and he can’t do anything about it. The naked man on his lap won’t leave. And Minhyuk knows it, understands it, so he puts his hands on Jooheon’s waist and looks up. 

Relaxing house music is still playing in the background.

“You want to?” Minhyuk asks lowly, fitting to the atmosphere of silent tension. 

“Yeah.” Jooheon replies in tune and leans down slightly, waiting for the other to reach halfway.

But Minhyuk is no standard man, because he extends his neck and hides under Jooheon’s chin, nose poking in the area of his neck. He smells his skin – the scent of citrus shower gel is still lingering on the surface – and licks a stripe up his throat column, making the ginger guy release a little shuddering breath. It feels well real, even if his neck is not the most sensitive area on his body. 

Seems like Minhyuk knows it too (How? He may never know.) because his fingers start gently massaging the soft waist, moving in circles at the back and lightly sliding down to his hip bones, and then back up, and then further up to his chest, and then back down again. His lips, soft and satisfyingly moistened lips, leave a slow trail of kisses on Jooheon’s neck, along his jaw, behind his ear, and the other shifts on his lap, gentle stimulations making him restless.

The tent in Minhyuk’s pants looks fascinatingly attractive at this point, and Jooheon sways his hips forward, striving for some kind of friction. When his tip touches something solid under the fabric, he breathes out, closing his eyes. Minhyuk exhales against the side of his face, and the grip on his waist grows a little firmer. 

Jooheon starts softly rocking his hips against the other guy’s hard-on. Minhyuk breathes out with what feels like a smile, and his hands slide further down, to the plump halves he’s been carefully drawing for the past half an hour.

“Jooheon,” he hotly whispers in the orange-haired guy’s ear, shortly cut nails pressing into the skin to stop the grinding movements, “you’re tipsy.”

“Not enough to not know what I’m doing,” the other replies and nearly whines, missing the friction immediately. 

“Prove it,” Minhyuk’s voice is low but the sensual raspiness is back, like it’s hard for him to talk and he pushes words out of his sand-dry throat. “What’s your card number?”

The other doesn’t even hesitate. “One, three, nine, seven–”

Minhyuk resists a little yelp and leans back, suddenly chuckling. “I didn’t actually mean it, don’t tell me.” He stays like that with his head thrown against the backrest, admiring Jooheon above him. His lips are so pink, cutely shaped, pouty, because Minhyuk isn’t giving him what he wants immediately. And even sulky he is still so hot – beddable, if he pleases. 

Jooheon has had enough. Looking right into Minhyuk’s eyes, he sits back on his thighs and removes his hands from the thin shoulders, reaching right for the waistband of his grey sweats. The other doesn’t stop, just observes his action with a quick tongue running over his lips. Jooheon pulls the waistband down, sliding it right over the tent just to make Minhyuk huff with an understanding smile, and sneaks his fingers into his underwear, tugging.

The freed cock rises upwards and lies on Minhyuk’s t-shirt, which Jooheon immediately yanks up to reveal a flat stomach. Minhyuk sighs contentedly and closes his eyes for a short second. He may act like the cool one here, but it’s always better to let a boner breathe – well, when it’s appropriate, of course. 

Jooheon admires the member for a while longer, stuck on how stupidly pretty it looks. Maybe it’s because he’s lost his mind after his half-assed vodka mix, maybe it’s because when he wraps his fingers around the shaft, Minhyuk releases a sigh that borders on a quiet throaty moan, maybe it’s because he is so ridiculously horny he just doesn’t even know what he wants more. 

He strokes Minhyuk’s cock slowly, eyes unchangeably focused on the way the pink head starts to glisten and the lower part of the other’s stomach tenses involuntarily. Minhyuk kneads on Jooheon’s butt like it’s freshly mixed dough, burying his fingers in the flesh as with every stroke he gets a little more sensitive, a little too impatient. Jooheon starts leaking just by watching (he’s too emotional for this, having a crush on his flatmate and all), so turned on by the image of his hands around Minhyuk’s dick, so ready to drown in the soft sounds the other makes, short restrained exhales like music to his ears. 

He is too engulfed in the activity to hear real beats still continuously playing in the background. 

When he slides his thumb over the wet tip, Minhyuk’s stomach twitches with a sharp inhale, soft muscles flexing. Long fingers shift from his butt to his waist again, clutch the sides, firmly slide up to his chest, and Jooheon has a hiss stuck behind his teeth when thumbs reach for his nipples, pressing softly. Minhyuk circles around the buds, barely touching, as if tickling, and corners of his mouth curl contentedly at the frown forming on Jooheon’s face, at the abrupt lip bite, at the way he lightly jerks away from the touch, too sensitive. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed, and his hand around the cock stops the movement with the inability to multitask. Minhyuk starts playing with the hard nipples faster, almost hovering over them, and this time Jooheon doesn’t manage to contain a whine, grimacing at the impossibly arousing sensation. 

He glances down just to meet Minhyuk’s lidded hazy eyes, lips forming a tiny-tiny grin, pleased with the newfound knowledge about Jooheon’s nipples (he sacrifices teasing them with his tongue for the sake of watching the other grow too sensitive for his own good; for the sake of watching him slowly lose it every time he hits a nerve, whiny moans escaping through his parted lips).

Minhyuk doesn’t manage to act out on the urge to kiss Jooheon when the other lets go of his cock and gets up, taking the pleasant weight off Minhyuk’s thighs. He kneels on the floor, looking right into the grey-haired guy’s eyes. 

“Wanna suck you off,” he mumbles, and Minhyuk shifts to the very edge of the couch, fitting Jooheon between his legs. He throws the t-shirt over his head and grips his thighs in anticipation, feeling his heartbeat increase at the simple idea of Jooheon’s pretty, cutely-shaped, pouty, soft, pink, damp, magnificent lips around his dick. 

The ginger guy is too far gone to take it slow, which is why he grabs the proudly standing cock with two hands and leads it into his readily open mouth. The wet warmth surrounds the tip first, playful flicks of the tongue sending the naked nerves into overdrive, and Minhyuk hums his first throaty moan. Jooheon sucks on the head like a lollipop, his plump lips plucked forward even more, so inappropriately cute in such vulgar circumstances. Minhyuk tangles his fingers in the orange hair, twisting a strand after another, turning organised mess on his head into a bigger mess. 

Jooheon sucks well, engulfs more and more with each trip down the length. His eyes roll back, and there is a moan hiding at the back of his throat, as if he’s enjoying the process more than Minhyuk. There shouldn’t even be an ‘as if’ – he loves taking dick, whichever way it might be, and he is so, so pleased with the other guy’s weighty cock in his mouth that he brings one hand to his own organ, stroking fast. 

“Oh, honey,” Minhyuk rasps, simply delighted with the way Jooheon looks around him, mouth stretched and cheeks hollowed and half-closed eyes cloudy, on the verge of losing it. 

His hand is working fast, bringing impossibly close to the edge, and he moans, whines, grimaces, swallowing deeper and faster, other hand barely managing the work around the uncovered length as his body is about to give up all the control, all the muscle strength. Jooheon bops his head diligently, cock slipping in and out of his mouth fast, before he squints and whimpers around the tip between his lips, finally reaching his release. Cum stains the front of the couch and drips onto the floor, and both of Jooheon’s hands go absolutely limp. 

Minhyuk looks at the other’s blissful face and feels ecstatic, overjoyed – Jooheon is secretly so, so good, getting off while having someone else’s dick in his mouth. He moves his hips upwards just to see if the other is able to carry on, and pleased he is to receive a tiny moan and a freeway further into the open mouth. Minhyuk raises his hips again, fucks into Jooheon’s mouth, moaning when he starts moving his head again, going down. 

The naked wires of nerves in his organ tighten and tangle, ready to explode, and Minhyuk throws his head back and hoarsely moans. He plays with his nipple, too damn sensitive all over his entire body, and this really makes him want to cry out. 

“Gonna cum, Jooheon,” he breathes out and looks down, meeting the other’s eyes. He nearly gasps, unexpected cat-like intimidation in the narrow eyes almost giving him a whiplash. Jooheon doesn’t let go, determined to finish his business, and Minhyuk huffs with an incredulous smile, “God, honey,” he pushes another moan out of his throat, “risky little tiger.”

He cums when his nerves explode and spasm through his entire body. His thighs tense as he buckles his hips with each spurt, finishing right into Jooheon’s mouth. Minhyuk is a little out of breath when he is drained through his orgasm and he looks down to find the other slip off his cock with the same sharp gaze. He’s always like that, changing his mood in a blink of an eye. One second he is a honey-like sweet pouty boy, dripping and whining for his own pleasure, and the other he is swallowing cum like a champion, licking his lips like a tiger hunting for his prey. 

Minhyuk’s hand is loose in his orange hair, mindlessly playing with the strands. “I wanna fuck you so, so bad.” He rasps, chewing on his lower lip. 

Jooheon rises from the floor and bends over Minhyuk like a shadow, making him move deeper into the couch. Putting a knee between his thighs, he traps the other guy and leans in so close that his predatory eyes and slick pink lips is all he sees. 

He sees for only second before abruptly closing the remaining distance and kissing Jooheon like he’s been meaning to do it – so fucking well. They’re fast, urgent, uncoordinated, but does Minhyuk feel simply euphoric after gaining the knowledge of what the best lips in the world taste like. Essentially, like cum, of course, but beyond simple matters they are candy, soft, wet, warm, calling Minhyuk to bite them, chew them, suck them like a goddamn Chupa Chups. 

Jooheon licks into his mouth and slides over his tongue, teasing, causing another rush of arousal to stream down both of their stomachs. “Want you,” he whispers lowly, immediately proceeding to catch Minhyuk’s lips between his again.

It’ almost disgusting how much they want each other, teenage-like horniness refusing to disappear even after a profoundly prolonged orgasm. Minhyuk bustles on the couch to quickly pull his sweats and boxers off his legs, finally matching to Jooheon’s state of being. He swears and curses into the ginger guy’s mouth, jolting from the couch onto his feet, Jooheon’s lips on his and hands on hips and waist and neck and wherever they reach. 

Well, Minhyuk only has one place he strives to reach every single day, and especially now he doesn’t hide the almost obsessive need to grope Jooheon’s ass as they stupidly try to stumble into the bedroom.

(They both have a foreshadowing thought that the bedroom won’t have just one possessive pronoun from now on.)

Somehow turning on the light, they make it to the bed. Jooheon sits down, and Minhyuk has to let go with fleeting regret, which disappears the second the other guy scrambles towards the headrest. He leans against the pillows and spreads his legs, gaze hard and sharp and intimidating in the way only Jooheon can make it – so damn fuckable.

“Look at you, tiger,” a corner of Minhyuk’s mouth curls in a tiny grin and he gets on the bed, crawls towards the most attractive sight he’s ever seen, keeps the insanely intense eye contact with the orange-haired. He grabs his thick firm thighs and leans down to bite into the flesh. Nosing along the honey skin, he smiles contentedly. “Mm, you smell good.” The faint aroma of citrus shower gel clings to his entire body, and Minhyuk swears he bites Jooheon’s pleasingly supple inner thigh like he would bite a piece of steak. 

Jooheon hisses when the other leaves teeth marks on his skin but hums a moan as soon as a warm tongue and soft lips soothe over them. Minhyuk moves away, and Jooheon wants to shiver as wet traces all over his thighs start to dry, cooling. Reaching into the nightstand, Minhyuk gets out lube and condoms (it’s a little embarrassing, but they both keep their nasty stuff in the same drawer for when either has a control over the apartment) and throws them somewhere near the other’s foot. Minhyuk rips one square, quickly and carelessly pulling it over his middle finger, and Jooheon is already too hard to even look – the anticipation is so deeply buried in his stomach (or, rather, his little head) that he curls his toes and crumples bedsheets between his fingers. 

Minhyuk squeezes some lube onto his palm, accidentally pouring a tad bit too much, but remembering that it’s strawberry flavoured – the best flavour he’s tries to far – he smiles and spreads it all over his fingers. One hand wraps around Jooheon’s cock, stroking all over the entire length, covering it in lube until it’s slick and pulsating and makes the orange-haired whine. Minhyuk guides the organ to his mouth and hugs the pink tip with his lips, and Jooheon’s moan is high-pitched and long, and he’s impossibly ecstatic at the feel of his crush’s mouth on him. Minhyuk’s other hand hovers somewhere over the rim, before he gently touches the muscle, causing Jooheon’s breath to hitch. He pushes through – it’s not hard, but the further his finger goes, the more the other starts to jiggle, getting accustomed to the feeling, humming little whines. 

Minhyuk’s fingers are long, thin and perfect at the tips but wider at the knuckles, so he moves carefully, stretching Jooheon gently, although he knows he doesn’t really have to, habits and all. When he feels comfortable enough to build up pace, his mouth descends down the length easily, accepting Jooheon further and further, and the other breathes faster, harsher, getting more sensitive with each second. Minhyuk deepthroats like a professional, keeps his eyes fixed on Jooheon’s pleasure-induced grimace, fits in a second finger under the condom and into the hole, and he is already growing a little weak from how much work he puts into it all. 

The responses he gets are good, fervent. Jooheon twitches underneath him, not knowing what to reach for, whines and cries out when Minhyuk spots the bundle of nerves, arching and curling with the inability to move anything else. Minhyuk circles his fingers, stretching and easing the access, and he is so satisfied when he hears slurping sounds and feels the hole go virtually loose around him. He plays with the balls just for the sake of making everything looks slick and wet and vulgar equally and pulls out. Jooheon whines like a deprived toddler, and Minhyuk only feels his heart bloom at the image below him, at the clenching wet rim and impossibly pink and swollen cock, lying heavily on the toned stomach and begging to be touched again. 

“Turn around,” Minhyuk tells him and throws the rubber off his fingers onto the floor, ripping a new condom open. Jooheon, like the good and big feral cat he is, gets on all four, his cock hanging between his legs and spine curving, ass pushed back. Already rolling the condom on his dick, Minhyuk doesn’t resist the suffocating urge to tap the beautiful round buttocks, so firm and so good and fitting right under his palm like it’s where they belong.

Minhyuk lightly slaps the right cheek with his cock, making Jooheon groan-whine and tell him to just get the fuck on with it. He does, lubing himself up again and aiming for the pleasantly relaxed hole, pushing it slowly but surely, breathing out at the delightfully warm, tight sensation around him. 

Jooheon moans at the growing feeling of fullness, stretch palpable but ignored for the sake of realising that it’s Minhyuk who’s getting him filled this good, that it’s Minhyuk who’s about to fuck him like an animal (he hopes), Minhyuk who, after this night, has no choice but to stay in Jooheon’s bed forever now.

And when he starts thrusting, it’s to put both of his hands on the parted butt cheeks and bury his fingers in the doughy, honey flesh, leaving red marks all over. Jooheon doesn’t stop moaning and pushing back, and his cock swings back and forth between his legs like a bell, but he doesn’t want to touch himself yet, he wants to fully live the feeling of getting pounded by one hell of a heart-throbbing man. 

Minhyuk’s moans are hoarse, and his hip movements are rough and yet still as if flowing, like crashing waves. He feels good, so good he can only hold on to the plump buttocks and slap it from above with a heavy hand. 

“Fucking hell,” Jooheon whines and whips his head back to give Minhyuk a look.

“Sorry, honey,” the other replies and bites his lip, wires in his dick starting to burn with pleasure. 

Jooheon’s arms get tired, he bends down on his elbows, moaning into the pillow, but Minhyuk has other plans. He wraps his hands under his armpits and indicates, rather than pulls, for him to rise back up again. He sits on his heels, Jooheon’s ass accommodates on his thighs, and he straightens and leans against Minhyuk, back to chest. The grey-haired guy’s hands are now traveling between his pecs and stomach, teeth are sunk in his shoulder or nibbling at the side of his neck. 

Minhyuk soon decides it’s not too comfortable. “Wanna ride me, tiger?” He lowly murmurs into the other’s ear, voice soughing, sharp and rustling and filled with contained moans. 

Jooheon slides off his cock without a second thought. “Oh, fuck,” he curses at the unpleasant emptiness. Minhyuk plops on his back and holds his dick up, waiting for Jooheon to suit himself. What he doesn’t expect is the other turning around and sitting over his legs just like that, magnificent ass spread open just for him too see. 

He reaches to grope Jooheon again, parting the halves further to observe the way his cock disappears in the slick hole inch by inch, before it’s swallowed whole and Jooheon sits on his hips, arms propping himself on Minhyuk's thighs. He grinds, moves smoothly, enjoying the feel of fullness and the other’s hands on his butt, kneading, grasping, tapping. 

Minhyuk doesn’t resists the moans slipping out of his throat, so coarse and high and breathy, and Jooheon works harder, speeds up, pushing his ass back all for the other’s delight. 

“So fit,” Minhyuk hums, landing a heavy hand on the round cheek. Jooheon moans this time, happier with the sharp sensation his skin. He is already flushed, spots of pink blooming where Minhyuk squeezed him with his fingertips. 

Their skin slams against each other, remains of lube on Jooheon’s butt making the sounds all the lewd and vulgar and exactly how they want it. Jooheon grinds, rubs against the other, looking for the same sparkling pleasure again but finds it to be more difficult. Minhyuk seems close enough, moaning all his wants, grabbing all the ass he wants, relaxed and letting the other ride the orgasm out of him.

Jooheon has different plans though. He rises and lets the cock heavily slip out of him, turns around and sits back on it again, keeping his feet on the bed by the sides of Minhyuk’s waist. And he bounces, vigorously looking for pleasure for the two of them, moves so well, moans when he finds the spot, pushes against it. Minhyuk starts pumping his neglected cock fast, and Jooheon whines, grimaces, so sensitive he is ready to fall over the edge. 

“Come on tiger, cum,” Minhyuk slurs and shuts his eyes too, feeling the release coming. His hips twitch and his stomach tenses, and he budges forward, raspy high mewl stuck in his throat, and before he can say anything else, he cums, so intensely his limbs grow weak. 

Realising the hand on his cock is kind of useless now, Jooheon puts his own over Minhyuk’s and continues jerking himself off, bouncing on the still-hard cock until his legs give out and the other guy groans and he is forced to rise up, feeling empty again.

He towers over Minhyuk on all fours, and when the hand starts moving over his dick again, inhumanly fast and fervent, Jooheon collapses and hides in the cook of his neck, moaning and moaning until he explodes. Cum splashes all over Minhyuk’s stomach and drips down his fist. Jooheon breathes hard, coming down.

They’re both sweaty and fairly exhausted, having fucked well for quite some time. Jooheon plops to the side, and Minhyuk brings his hand to his mouth, licking the small drops of white off his knuckles.

“Fuck, I need the toilet.” Jooheon mutters and whines, doesn’t want to move anywhere from his bed. Minhyuk laughs and sits up – he is the one who needs the most cleaning right now.

It’s late, which means they both do their nighttime routine and get ready for bed, in whatever mother gave them. Minhyuk doesn’t let Jooheon get cozy and wraps his hands around his neck, kissing him, softer this time, although just as sensually as before. The other hugs him tight, and Minhyuk indulges in the sweetest feeling of Jooheon’s lips, plump and pliant and pink and addicting like a lollipop.

It’s good that Jooheon didn’t get drunk-drunk for his horny shenanigans, because afterwards they make out for long, too long, without any desire to sleep or take a break. Minhyuk’s hands somehow find their way back to the lovely butt cheeks and he accomodates himself on Jooheon’s arm, nose buried in his chest. 

When Minhyuk’s parents call him up and say he should come home, he doesn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> did you see the smooth style change omg did you see it im kidding i just didnt wanna be poetic in the beginning but did for the second half
> 
> hmu on twt @ chaeleggiewon!


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